Gamer (Fanfic) Amnesia the Gamers Descent
by KyoKat23
Summary: A mysterious being has been traveling through worlds kidnapping gamers. When Pewdiepie and Cry find themselves stuck, they must escape the torment & regain back their memories "Die in one world and you die in the other" Although with the help of their friends, gaming is a lot harder in real life, having to sacrifice everything to get back their love ones & return home, in one piece
1. Level One Awoken (Part 1)

Gamer (Fanfic)

Amnesia the Gamers Descent

"My name is Peeewdiepie and welcome to..."

A sudden scream and then...

That was the very last thing anyone heard before the video cam went blank.

Who screamed? Where did Pewdiepie go?

What this story unravels, is quite terrifying. There have been rumors that gamers have been going missing, weeks even months with no video uploads or any news or sign of their disappearance. This wouldn't be unusual as they are only human and have their own lives to lead and enjoy but what if they never returned? What if the last thing you saw of your favourite gamer was the horrifying look of death on their face before your computer screen went black?

Well let me share you this one story, actually two but first lets start where it is best to start, at the beginning...

Level one... Awoken.

Pewdie laid flat on his back staring up at a red cotton sheet that was held up by four large mahogany bed posts. At fist he did not turn, as a dull ache in his chest restricted his movement. His eyes struggled to adjust to the fading light of candles that were littered carelessly around the room. The living quarters looked disturbingly familiar, like a dream, or a picture or a... game?

Panicked and unable to recall his happenings, Pewdie threw himself forward only to double over in agony, clutching his arm, his body fighting to settle his nerves from uncontrollable trembling.

His mind set. Pewdie dragged his uncooperative body to edge of the bed. It was only then did he realise he was no longer wearing his usual coloured T-shirt and jeans but instead of an old Victorian suit, a grey waist-coat and pressed trousers to match. One of his bone coloured laced sleeves was rolled up over him elbow, revealing thick blood stained bandages.

He struggled to his feet, pressing all his weight onto a large wooden dresser that held an assortment of objects and letters.

Convinced the letters could help, Pewdie read the following...

"_Pewdiepie awoke, arm injured, his memory fuzzy._

_After allowing himself to recuperate, the young gamer_

_found himself searching the room for answers._

_There he found on the dresser besides him _

_a multitude of items:_

_a lantern, a small pot of pain killers, a flask of hot water,_

_a packet of beta blockers, 3 rolls of clean bandages,_

_2 glass jars of oil, 1 energy drink, 2 cookies, a small box of tinder_

_and a paper bag containing 4 dog biscuits..."_

Pewdie let out a gasp, not realising he'd been holding his breath. Was this a dream? And if not, then what kind of sick joke was this? Although nervous he gulped, and continued. The second letter was caught on a shard of broken mirror that stayed in place by a section of unharmed glass. He pulled on it gently scared to damage the mirror any further, once free he read...

"_Rules and objectives:_

_You must complete the game to escape your prison,_

_there is NO shortcuts or cheats to this game so please_

_Don't bother searching, any attempts will lead to your demise._

_You will find equipment and food on your journey_

_but be wise with your belongings as they could determine_

_whether you live or die in this world._

_Always keep your sanity high, your pain low_

_and Do Not forget to tend to your injured arm as it _

_will effect your game play, clean water and supplies will be _

_stationed around check points._

_There will be times when you begin to believe this world is fake_

_but I assure you it's real._

_One last thing... If you die in this world, you WILL _

_DIE IN THE OTHER!_

_So farewell gamer, until me meet again_

_Good Luck"_

Before Pewdie could react, the door on the far side of the bed room began to bang and crack. Wood splinters flew through the air, revealing a monstrous clawed hand, violently thrashing in the hole in the door.

Without even knowing it, Pewdie had already slid the contents on the dresser into a sack like duffle bag that had been hanging only an arm stretch away on what looked like a meat hook.

He rushed to a large wardrobe, dropping the paper bag of dog biscuits. He had no time to retrieve them. The wardrobe door closed as the other smashed open.

His blonde hair stood on end as he sat patiently, listening to creature's screeching, as the thing demolished the area around the wooden box Pewdie lay dormant inside. Preying he would not be found.

A vase shattered, frightening him with such dread his leg jolted, knocking the wardrobe door open. With very little time to act, he lunged forward and yanked the flimsy wooden door back, holding it in place with only the tips of his fingers. The beast heaved and pushed furiously at the door. Knowing it would soon come loose, either by it's hinges or that every time the monster ran at it all the thing's dead weight crushed Pewdie's fingers.

'I'll have to make a run for it.' He thought. What choice did he have, if he stayed, he'd die but then again, if he tried to run he'd still probably die, better to be killed knowing you were brave than to be slaughtered as a coward. Duffle Bag at the ready, positioned in a beginning sprint motion he went to push off until the unexpected noise of what sounded like dogs paws on laminate flooring.

The room went silent for only a moment, when all of a sudden, a high pitch scream came from the beast and blood curdling sound of what could only be described as a bag being ripped open and a jelly like content poured from it.

Pewdie sat bewildered, his bloody and bruised hands still grasping the edge of the wardrobe door, too terrified to see the world beyond the wooden box.

"Felix!?" A voice came from behind the slightly closed doors. "Felix!? Listen, I know you are scared but I don't have much time." Pewdie didn't recognised the voice but the voice obviously knew him. He bent his head around the corner expecting to see a man of some sort but instead a small black-brownish pug.

"EDGAR!" Pewdie flew out of his hiding space and dashed towards his pet. Stroking him urgently as if he'd never seen a dog before. He gazed up at his surroundings, the room was now trashed, blood and organs decorated the walls and ceiling like an explosion of paint. "Was there a man in here just now?" He asked rhetorically.

"No, unless you count that thing a man." The small dog replied. Pewdie was now pale white, his mouth wide open at the sight of his talking dog. Speechless, he knelt besides the pug, staring down in terror.

"Come now Felix, this is the game world." Edgar sniffed. "Anything can happen in the world of fantasy." Pewdie's eyes soften, almost looking as if he was drunk. "You have seen too much horror, take a beta blocker and fix your hands with a swig of your energy drink." Although confused, he did as Edgar asked. Moments later he felt more mentally stable and his hurt hands healed in seconds. "Game logic!" Edgar laughed. "Any wounds you gain in this world can be healed with sleep, food, medi-packs and water. Unlike your arm that was damaged in the other world, the world where we came from. You must take good care of your arm Felix, for if it gets infected you will die, but don't worry it's easier to care for than you think." Pewdie calmed, he crossed his legs and joined the conversation, not that it was weird that he was talking to his pet dog, he always did but this was the first time Edgar actually talked back.

"So did whatever bring me here, bring you here to?"

"No, I followed by my own will."

"Why?" Pewdie sounded sad.

"We have always had our ups and downs Felix but I've never hatred you and to watch my friend be dragged into another world against his will wasn't something I was planning on sitting back and watching." Edgar bought up a rear leg and casually itched his ear. Pewdie smiled, it was nice to know his dog cared for him that much he'd risk his own puggy life in a world of demons and murders. "As I said before Felix my time here is limited." With a low snort he hopped up onto his stubby legs and waddled to far side of the once had been bedroom. There he pulled a paper bag out from under the bed. The dog biscuits. He trundled back to where Pewdie still sat and placed the dog treats at his leg's side.

"I thought I lost them." Pewdie sighed in relief.

"Yes and you almost did, I used them as an advantage to come see you." The Victorian dressed gamer opened up the paper bag, inside there were three bone shaped biscuits with the letters H-I-N-T on them. "Hint biscuit bones." Edgar announced. "Whenever you need me, call my name, I will then ask for a treat, if you successful give me one, I will help you in any task you require assistance of but if you do not have a treat I'm afraid I cannot help you no matter how much I want to."

Edgar made his way to the entrance of the room. "Goodbye Felix, good luck friend." As if the pug floated, he soundlessly walked off into the darkness. Pewdie shouted after him but he was gone, nothing but a long empty corridor fading into black on either side.

He adjusted the strap on his bag and took a deep breath before walking out into the world of the unknown.

Level One... Awoken (Part 1) Completed...

Level One... Awoken (Part 2) Begin?...


	2. Level One Awoken (Part 2)

Level One... Awoken. (Part 2)

Cry sat in the deepest darkest corner of his dungeon cell, rocking his body back and forth his forehead pressed up against the backs of his knees, chanting out. "This isn't happening, I can't do this, this isn't happening, wake up, please, please, wake up, wake up." He'd woken up in a white medical theater, lights shining bright into his fragile eyes. Blurred images of grotesque doctors hovered over his sedated body. He was too physically numb and mentally dazed to understand their conversation but he knew they're weren't being kind.

When he finally came to, Cry was laying on a metal rectangular shaped slab that was held up in the air by four thick iron chains. His sight was fuzzy but he could see the outlines of prison bars, surrounded by old black stone walls and a single fire torch that was held in place by a metal ring that stuck out from the wall. Cry had tried to lift his head to strain his sight through the dark but pain shot through his neck and face like a sudden strike with a poker that had been submerged in flames. When the pain subsided he struggled to his feet, still wobbly from the tranquilizer, he reached his arms out to touch a small wooden desk that was crammed with an assortment of gear and a handwritten note.

"I can't read this without my..." Cry said as he noticed his glasses balancing on the lid of a tinder box. It was only when he tried to squeeze them on that he realised his face was covered in thick bandages. Trying to ignore the dull, numb feeling in his face he read the letter...

"_Cryaotic awoke, his memories lost, his face wrapped in bandages.  
After allowing himself to recuperate, the young gamer_

_found himself searching the prison cell for answers._

_There he found on the desk besides him _

_a multitude of items:  
An iron key, Cry's glasses, a lantern, a small pot of pain killers,  
a flask of hot water, a packet of beta blockers, antiseptic cream,  
3 rolls of clean bandages, 2 glass jars of oil,  
1 energy drink, 2 cookies, a small box of tinder_

_and a tin of 3 sardines..."_

He tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. 'What exactly is wrong with my face?' His brain screamed, his breathing became harsh and quick, his hands trembled uncontrolably as his knees buckled beneath him, panic taking over. Cry began to search the room, frantically crawling on the hard stone floor. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for but it was something to distract himself from the nightmare he'd awoken to. It was only until a sudden flash caught his eye that he stopped and forced himself to relax.  
There on the outside of the prison bars, only a arm reach away was a square parcel, wrapped in brown paper with the words 'To Cry' written beautifully in silver ink.  
He was reluctant to open it but found his hands were tearing through the paper before his mind even knew he was doing it. Inside was three objects, the first item was an envelope. Without seeing what the other things were he open the letter that read...

"_Firstly I would like to give you two gifts,  
My first gift to you is a mask, I'm sure you'll recognise it Cry  
and the second is a mirror, I have wrapped the mirror in rice paper,  
so it's your choice whether you wish to look at it or not. You who have no face,  
you who have no image, I wanted to keep your gaming theme, but I promise  
you now that you may have your face back once you win my game.  
Rules and objectives:  
You must complete the game to escape your prison, there is NO shortcuts or cheats to this game so please_

_Don't bother searching, any attempts will lead to your demise. You will find equipment and food on your journey_

_but be wise with your belongings as they could determine whether you live or die in this world._

_Always keep your sanity high, your pain low and Do Not forget to tend to your skinless face as it _

_will effect your game play, clean water and supplies will be stationed around check points._

_There will be times when you begin to believe this world is fake but I assure you it's real._

_One last thing... If you die in this world, you WILL DIE IN THE OTHER!  
So farewell gamer, until we meet again  
Good Luck"_

_Cry started screaming, _viciously_clawing at his bandages, then punching the cold stone floor below him. The tormented howls echoed through the mazed corridors. Pewdie had been walking down a narrow hallway when he heard the distant screams, at first he believed it might have been another monster but as he listened closely the sound became clearer. Convinced it was another trapped gamer, Pewdie ran in the direction of the on coming noise._

_Cry was now huddled up aganist his knees, tears stang his skinless face.  
"Oi boy! What you playing at?" Cry jumped at the voice. His head span round to where the words had been spoken. There by the bars was the silhouette of a cat, not just any cat, his cat. Today had been weird enough already, now his cat was talking to him. "Didn't you heard me boy? Get the hell up." Cry blinked at the angry felion, who was now only sitting inches away from his feet. "I swear boy, if I have to repeat myself." The cat cut off as he stared at the sobbing young man, his dark hair messy from sweat and blood glued itself to the torn muscle and wet fabric. The gray-brown furred tabby cat flicked his tail in annoyance, then sighed. "Come on you, I'll help fix you up, you can't win a game looking like that." The cat hoped up onto the levatating metal slab and with a white socked paw, pointed towards the mixture of tools. "Here, eat something, that should heal your wounds on your knuckles but as for your face, I'm afraid you'll have to wash it was the hot water from the flask, then put the antiseptic cream and clean bandages on." Cry struggled to mend his face. 'It would be a lot easier with a mirror.' He poundered, but the thought of actually looking of what face he had left, terrifyed him._

_Once clean and healed he sat besides his cat.  
"Thank you Cat." He said sadly.  
"Don't mention it." Cat was washing himself, a damp, soft paw rubbed across his face.  
"How did you get here?" Cry asked his tabby.  
"Cause I got dragged a long, cause you allowed yourself to be kidnapped." Cat hissed.  
"By who?"  
"How should I know, I'm just a cat." Cry sighed, holding back his tears. "Listen, Ryan. Your face is still intact in the other world. If you can complete the game you can go back to your old self." Cry's eyes beamed with a chance of hope. "But that means leaving this cell and actually taking part." Cat's green eyes narrowed in concentration. "That mask. It's that rediculas face I always see on your Youtube account." Cry smiled. It was the first time since getting trapped in this world that he actually felt like smiling, not to mention a cat saying Youtube account, which for some strange reason found funny.  
"Yeah that's right."  
"You should wear it, it'll help with your sainity." Cat jumped down, landing elegantly by the prison bars. "Use the satchel under your bed to carry your gear, and if you need me, give me a shout, I'll then meow for a treat, if you give me a sardine I can help but if you don't I'm afraid I can't. Take care boy." Cat vanished into the dark._

_Cry bent down to lift the 'Cry Mask' from the floor. It was made from a thin white material that felt soft like skin but strong like plastic. 'There's no eye holes.' He noticed. The dark haired gamer positioned the circualr mask inline with his jaw. It was translucent. Like a one-way mirror that could be found in police staitions. Once he fastened the mask, his satchel bag at the ready, the iron key at his fingertips. He turned the key left and with a loud clunk of the old lock, the jail door swung open.  
With a determind stare and new found confidence, Cry went forward into the unknow darkness._

_Level One... Awoken. (Part 2)... Complete._

_Level Two... Reunited... Begin?..._


	3. Level Two Reunited

Level Two... Reunited.

Pewdie fell through the large mahogany doors, landing hard on his knees. He was exhausted, it had been hours since he heard the screams and gallivanted off to find out who it had been. 'I need to rest.' Pewdie sighed, his mousy blonde hair was now matted with sweat. His upper arm ached from the unexplainable injury. No memory of what happened that night of being stolen from the other world came to mind, only the distant sound of Marzia shrieking in pure terror was the last thing he recalled.

"MARZIA!" Pewdie remembered. "My beautiful!? Where are you?" He preyed his girlfriend wasn't in this hell, that she was safe.

*Flashback...*

He could feel the cold juice run down his throat and into his stomach. Pewdie gasped, he'd needed that. The day had runaway with him, the massive 'to do list' was no closer to being complete and he knew that when Marzia would return home he'd be back in the dog house. He'd been thinking of playing a new game, to start a brand new 'let's play' on Youtube but had been putting it off for days now. Beautiful Marzia, fell through the patio doors, heavy bags of groceries in each hand.

"Oh! You're back." Pewdie laughed nervously.

"Hi ya, you okay?" She'd noticed his laugh and frowned. "Have you walked the dogs?"

"No not yet, I was about to." He lied. The dainty women sighed in annoyance.

"Felix, have you done anything today?" She looked tiered, her long brown hair raked back into a messy bun.

"No." He grinned childishly.

"Oh Felix, for heaven's sake." She loudly slammed her keys to the kitchen counter. "Go away. Go be useless somewhere else."

Pewdie slumped into his office chair, feeling slightly guilty, he switched the computer on and hung his headphone round his neck. 'Let's play games, that'll cheer me up.'

Pewdie's feelings had now gone to doom and gloom, as he rested his head on the arm of a dinning chair. The long table was beautifully decorated with flowers and golden candle sticks as far as the eye could see, although it was a shame that every china plate and cup with layered in mold and spoiled food. Normally, in the game Pewdie would find nothing more fun than to spin and fling the rotting corpse of Mr Piggy through the manor, quoting "I'm so pump! I'm so pump!" As for now, the sight of the partly disemboweled swine was almost nauseating. The sudden sound of the door handle turning, woke Pewdie from his trance. Stealthily he crawled beneath the dinning table and watched on in high alert.

The never ending corridors faded in and out of darkness, Cry couldn't afford to use his lantern as he'd used up most of his oil to escape the dungeon. He'd already encountered two monsters, undetected and was feeling pretty lucky. 'Don't you get cocky.' Cry kept reminding himself, for there is no greater fool than an arrogant fool. The masked gamer had come to a winding staircase that was too far up to see the possible end.

"Well." He paused. "No turning back now." Although sore from his constant walking, he braved the whirlpool of endless stairs, each step becoming more and more unbearable as he went higher. He'd tried remembering the circumstances that lead to his kidnapping.

"Nathan?!" Cry said aloud. "My little brother, he was the last person I saw before all this happened."

*Flashback...*

"Ryan? Can I play?" Cry was sitting at his computer desk, one hand on the keyboard the other Nathan was dangling from, pulling at the button on his shirt sleeve.

"No! I'm not playing anything at the moment, I'm doing 'Cry Reads'." The gamer lifted his younger brother from the floor, hoisting him over his shoulder. Nathan was now climbing down his back, trying to snatch the wallet that poked out from Cry's back pocket. When reaching the hallway, he heaved the boy off, almost dropping him on the outside of his bedroom door.

"Oh please Ryan, I really wanna play games with you." Realising the boy was now twirling a wallet in his hands. Cry lent forward, snatching the brown leather square back.

"We'll play later, go away, stop being a brat." The door slammed shut, proceeding back to his usual spot, hard drive, speakers, screen, headphones, microphone, all on and working. Time to tell some scary stories.

The stairs came to an end, finally. There stood two large mahogany doors, carved with gargoyles and finely highlighted with gold paint. Cry could only hope that nothing dangerous was hiding behind these walls, as he'd walked himself to what felt like to the bone. With only a moments hesitation he turned the brass door handle and entered to what looked like a elegant dinning room. The area with light with candles and a magnificent fire place that burnt brightly, filling the air with warmth that made Cry sleepy.

Before Cry could relax, he noticed a man, kneeling under the table, so Cry slowly makes his way around the table.

Pewdie could see the man's feet, making their way around the table

He doesn't know I know he's there. Cry guessed.

He doesn't know I'm here. Pewdie guessed.

Both men prepared to attack, waiting for their soon pending battle to the death.

The two gamers, pounced at each other, scaring one another in the process. Cry stared at Pewdie and Vise Versa. They were completely discombobulated.

"P-pewds? I-is that really y-you?" Cry stuttered.

"Cry?! Oh my God it's Cry!" The two men grabbed one another, taking in each other's scent, voice and touch. I won't forget this person, no matter what this game puts me through, they silently promised.

The young gamers sat close to the fire, their shoes placed neatly under a dinning chair as they tried to gain energy from the orange flames. Neither of them had much to say, only that they were enjoying each others company, which didn't have to be spoken aloud.

"Pewds, will you win this game with me?" Cry broke the silence.

"You took the words right out my mouth." Pewdie smiled. "In the morning we'll stay together and we'll continue together and we'll leave this hell together. Right?"

"Right." The boys closed their eyes and once again it was silent.

Level Two... Reunited... Complete.

Level Three... Levels... Begin?


	4. Level Three Levels

Level Three... Levels.

Morning sunlight shone onto Pewdie's face, stinging his eyes from behind his eyelids. The gamer blinked the pinks, greens and oranges out from his vision, he hadn't slept as well as he'd thought, his back and shoulders ached and cracked from where he's been laying. Cry was still sleeping, the mask that had covered his face had now moved to the top of his head, revealing a bloody pulp of muscle tissue and ivory bone. This scared Pewdie, unwilling screaming at the sight. Cry woke suddenly, scanning the area with urgency, until noticing that the room was empty, he turned at Pewdie with rage.

"What the heck are you screaming for?" The blonde haired gamer was now perplexed.

"You mean you're not dead?" He said foolishly. Cry too was now confused, reaching up to run his hand through his chocolate coloured hair but instead his fingers collided with the hard plastic of his mask.

"Oh!" He realised. "You mean my face?" Cry touched it gently, leaving a brownish residue on the tips of his fingers. "Looks like it might need cleaning." He said casually, as if having no skin was completely normal.

"What happened Cry?" Pewdie asked. The dark haired man shrugged and got to his feet.

"Does it look bad?" Cry whispered, frightened to hear his friend's reply. Pewdie remained silent, as what could he say, there was no chance he could lie and yet his face or what was left of his face was too repulsive to make excuses for. "Don't worry." Cry laughed, trying to pretend it didn't bother him. "Lets get a move on." He said of the blue which was replied with a single nod.

The long corridors were just how the boys remembered them, just like the game, red, gold, wry and a lot of barrels. Which Pewdie couldn't help but comment on, leaving Cry to roll his eyes playfully at his silliness. If they didn't laugh, they would only breakdown, Cry kept reminding himself.

When it came to puzzles and reading clues, Cry relied on Pewdie, wearing his glasses would only dig into the bandages, causing mind numbing pain. Although, he did have to help, as Pewds would occasionally speak in Swedish, forgetting that Cry was American and wasn't fluent in his language, if at all. They had both done incredibly well, stacking boxes to climb out of sewers and hiding from monsters in various places, using each other to lean on when needed, they made a pretty good team but could still fight like cat and dog when coming up with successful plans and strategies.

"Is there suppose to be a storyline or something to this game?" Pewdie thought aloud, curiously admiring the painted ceiling of the grand hallway entrance. Cry turned, he was a good couple of meters ahead and had over heard his comment, which now irritated him.

"What?" He raised his voice not realising he was doing it. Pewdie flinched and stared after the masked gamer, who was now facing in his direction, shoulders tense and stood in what could only be described as a self defense stance. It was hard to see what Cry's emotions were as the mask was nothing more than a white circle with two whirls for eyes and a single dead straight line for a mouth.

"I was just wondering when do we know we've reached the next level." Cry sighed, tugging at his thick brown hair.

"Who knows?"

"Maybe Edgar can help." Cry's head tilled to the side, expressing his confusion. "My dog, he gave me these biscuits to ask for his help when I need it."

"Oh! Yeah I have some fish for my cat." His tiered body slumped to the floor, "Why don't you try it then?" He suggested, playing with the buttons on his lace cuffed sleeve. Wearing Victorian clothes was not something Cry was use to, in fact they were uncomfortably tight, especially his black waistcoat that rode up his back whenever he would bend or climb revealing his pale skin, that would send a chill to his bare flesh. Their clothes had already gone through an assortment of torture, getting wet, then muddy, bloody and even up to their armpits in sewage, 'I feel a little feverish' Cry sighed.

"EDGAR! I NEED YOUR HELP!" Pewdie shouted, as if summoning a demon. Out from the shadows appeared a small black-brownish pug, waddling over to his master's feet.

"Give me my treat" The pug demanded, which the gamer did so. The dog chewed the small bone shape in to a messy pile of crumbs and saliva, until finally devouring it. Edgar glowed a gold light, as if when highlighting an object in a video game. "What can I do for you Felix?" The pug snorted.

"Can you tell us more about this world? And when do we reach the next level?" Edgar dog-sneezed.

"Not too far now, actually through that door." The small dog directed with his paw. "As for this world, this is the realm of Amnesia but whoever is doing this to you isn't putting you through just, YELP!" Edgar began frantically rubbing his head of to the wooden floor. The two boys ran to the dog's side, filled with concern.

"Stupid mut!" A familiar voice came out from the walls. "He should know better." Cat's narrow green eyes look on with amusement.

"Is that you're cat?" Pewds asked.

"Yeah, he's a bit of a jerk." Cry stood to see the Cat better. "Are you here to help?" He shouted towards his tabby.

"Ha! Absolutely not. I'm here to collect that foolish K9." The arrogant feline strode over to where the two boys hovered around Edgar, who was still whimpering in pain. "Come mut, before you kill yourself." Without another word Cat placed his white soaked paw onto the pug's back and seeped into the darkness like a quick cast of shadow.

"WAIT!" Pewdie yelled "Edgar..." Cry squeezed Pewdie's shoulder in sympathy.

"Don't worry I'm sure he's fine, my cat may seem like a dick but I bet he took him somewhere to recover." Cry reassured his worried friend. Pewds smiled and they both continued to the door that Edgar had pointed to earlier.

Inside the room was not what they had expected. The small box room was filled with shelves, mishmash of books, bottles, tins and junk with only a wardrobe on the far side of the room, chained closed with a single gold padlock that kept it from opening. Without warning the door behind Cry and Pewdie slammed shut, echoing loudly through their ears, water squirting through the crack at the bottom of the door.

"A KEY!" The gamers screamed in unison. The boys scrambled through the array of rubbish, frantically searching for a key to fit the lock. The murky water was now up to their waists, making it almost impossible to move quickly.

"I THINK THE WATER HAS STOPPED RISING!" Screamed Pewdie, over the sound of rushing water.

"THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING PEWDS!" Cry was right, as the noise of sewer fish came closer to the barricaded entrance.

"SHIT!" The wood began to splintered away, the fish devoured everything in their path and they would be next. Almost giving up hope, Pewds punched the wooded shelf, braking it with force, when out of the blue, a metal key fell out from a closed book, titled 'Thy Last Hope.' They trenched the water to the locked wardrobe, Pewdie's hands shook violently to fit the key.

"HURRY UP!" Cry screamed.

"SHUT UP CRY!"

"THEY'RE ALMOST THROUGH!"

"I KNOW I KNOW!"

"HURRY UP THEN!"

Pewdie stopped suddenly and looked at Cry, saying calmly. "You're not helping..." Although hidden by a mask, he rolled his eyes at Pewds and snatched the key out from his grasp, with a single try the pad lock was lose, untangling the chains, the fish were though the wooden barrier and swam viciously towards the boys. Volume turned high, they screamed all the way into the wardrobe, shutting the doors behind them. They were safe.

Their lanterns did not work inside the darkness but instead had to fumble through the pitch blackness until reaching what felt like a door. Before the gamers could opening it, revealing the next level, the doors were pulled apart by a man around the same age as Cry and Pewdie, his silver hair and glasses reflected light onto the their faces, startling the neatly dressed boy.

"W-who are you?" He stuttered.

Cry and Pewdie looked at one another in amazement, their voices synchronized.

"I don't think we're in Amnesia anymore."

Level Three... Levels... Complete.

Level Four... 18+... Begin?...

_**(Hi, I hope you're enjoying my story, I'll bring the next chapter out as soon as I can... Any guesses where are heros are now? ^_^ Thank you for reading this far... see you soon.)**_


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